Arms of Deliverance: A Story of Promise



      Tricia Goyer did it again. Arms of Deliverance captured me from page-one. And don’t let the cover fool ya. Though I’m a card-carrying male, the two beautiful ladies on the cover dissuaded me not a bit. One look at the cool B-17 pictured in the distance was all it took to get me past those gorgeous babes.
      If you’re a proud, Arian, white-supremacist, maybe you’d better not pick this one up. You probably couldn’t handle the unabated truth Tricia tells about the Third Reich. Besides historical accuracy, she relates a compelling story of passionate men and women–passionate about professional competition, love, patriotism, and getting the news story right.

      Below, read the book’s back-cover blurb to put my impressions into perspective.

      Europe, 1944. Katrine, a Czech Jew, is so successful in her attempt to pass as an Aryan that she finds herself dating a Nazi officer. Having convinced him of her genetic purity, the officer sends her to stay at a Lebensborn home — a Nazi breeding program in which children are raised and indoctrinated by the state.
      Meanwhile, rival American reporters Lee and Mary land assignments on the frontlines of war-torn Europe — Lee joins troops sailing for Normandy, while Mary’s destiny lies in the cramped quarters of a B-17 bearing down on Berlin. Before the presses roll, their lives will be indelibly marked by a caring American navigator, brave French resistors, and a maniacal Nazi officer. Arms of Deliverance is a story of unexpected redemption.

      Bottom line? Just read the book.

Advertisements

Got somethin' to say? Say it.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s